Deisel, A Jamaican Love Story – Part 7

Episode 7

 

In the morning

I sat there on this rock.  I heard the twitter of the birds.  And I heard the croak of the toads.  I would push my feet to a splash against the currents of the pond.  I could have seen the outline of trees against the pale white skies as the darkness slowly but surely gave way to day fall.   Did I spend all of the night by the pond?  Naaw.  I went in at about 2:30 am that morning after staring at the stars that were so short in supply in what would have otherwise been an empty purple sky.  There was this moment in particular, when it felt as if my heartstrings weren’t strong enough to keep my heart from bolting through my chest – and that was when I saw this aircraft, which resembled a little insect with lights as it soared the skies.   Maybe that’s Elan’s flight. Maybe I’m just being silly. I almost forced myself to say, ‘I love you, Elan’.

Ma could have sworn that Elan and I had done it.  She was up, sewing when I crawled through her front door.  She said nothing, but I knew what she was thinking.   But it didn’t happen, Ma.  Elan and I never did it because his wicked aunt hid him from me. So don’t worry, Ma.  He didn’t breed me, I would say in my mind as I pushed my room door open.  And what if he did?  We were consenting adults.  And if I wanted to give it to him and get pregnant and end up being a single mom because he didn’t return to Jamaica then that would have been my decision.  I would have had to live with it but I knew I would have definitely loved the process of conceiving.

So, there I was, back at the lake early that morning.  Now, I heard Mr. cock waking up all of Porus with its crowing.  Now I could have seen the morning fog, looking like low-lying clouds beyond the trees or better yet, a misty curtain, which would obscure my view of anyone or anything beyond the Porus main road above.  A cold morning it was, actually.  The goosebumps that plagued my shivery arms were more than a multitude. I still had my tiny pink dress on.  Maybe it was half-past six that morn.  I started heading back home, from the pond, to get my sweater.   I was about to cross the main road but I saw this pair of white-beam lights piercing through the sea-smoke-looking mist.  I heard the engine.  It was this bimmer SUV.   It drove past me.  I was about to cross the main road.  But then the vehicle stopped.  I saw its white reverse lights penetrating the fog.   The vehicle was coming back towards me.  I ran toward the pond.  The SUV stopped.

I could have heard when the door clunked open.

“Deisel.”

“Deisel.”

 

I didn’t answer.

 

The End Of Episode Seven

 

Come back next week to see what happens.

 

This fictional series contains the names of characters, places, events and a storyline that exists only in the author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to actual events, persons alive or not is a coincidence.

This publication is intended for readers who are twenty-one years of age or older and was created only for entertainment.

All Rights Reserved. Reproduction, duplication or copying of any part of this publication in any form or by whatever means is strictly prohibited unless consent is given by the author.

 

Individuals pictured are models and are used for illustrative purposes.

 

Please send us your Feedback, News Item, Confession, gossip or Dear Mckoy, Photos and/or Videos to our WhatsApp Number 1-876-353-1389 or Email [email protected]

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